In a snowy Minnesota wilderness, guests get the best of two worlds.

When its 30 below in the north woods, that's nothing like a cold day in Siberia.

Its more like a cold day in Mongolia.

Temperatures were dangerously low over New Year's when we drove with friends to the Gunflint Trail, but we knew a wood fire would be waiting for us in a round, canvas-sided hut called a yurt, or ger in Mongolia.

Around Lake Superior, overnight guests can try out life at a lighthouse.

When Lake Superior lighthouses had keepers, there was nothing romantic about life there.

The posts were cold, lonely and meagerly furnished on the government dime. The work was physically taxing and repetitive. Through the long nights, keepers had to get up every two hours to wind the mechanism that rotated the lens.

It's no wonder many of the early lighthouse keepers were hermits or grouches.

In this bicycling capital, take your choice of B&Bs, small inns and even cabins.

Before the Root River State Trail was built, the only places to stay in Lanesboro were some small hunters' cabins near the city park.

That was before there was anything to do in the isolated village besides hunt and fish. Now Lanesboro is the recreational and cultural capital of southeast Minnesota, with a new theater, an arts center and 60 miles of paved bicycle trails.

With visitors pouring in, Lanesboro also has become the bed-and-breakfast capital of the Minnesota, with more B&Bs than any other town, plus several small inns.

Here's how to find an inn you'll like.

Everyone looks for something different in a B&B. Some people just want to relax in fancy environs, and their search is relatively easy: Look for high-end inns and be willing to pay for them.

I'm always on the move when I stay at a B&B, so I look for one that's near whatever I plan to do  biking, hiking, touring. If the proprietor is reasonably friendly and the room clean and comfortable, I'm happy.

But I like inns best if they have a unique character and reflect their surroundings. When we stayed at the Silver Star Inn in Spring Green, Wis., one May, for example, the owner didn't lavish wine or chocolate on us.

Thanks to B&Bs, people without a week to spare still can get onto the water.

It was a sweltering afternoon in June
when I knocked at the door of Seagren's Pokegama Lodge in Grand Rapids,
Minn. I'd spent the previous night in a dusty room on the far side of
town, on the edge of a mosquito-infested wood, and the day trudging
around the town, which is on the Mississippi River and surrounded by lakes.

I was hot. I was ready for a swim. And there the lake was,
shimmering away at the foot of the three-story B&B. Rarely has a
plunge felt so good.

Since then, I've looked for places to stay
that have beaches or access to a lake. Minnesota and
Wisconsin have hundreds of lake resorts, but in summer, most rent only
by the week. That's where B&Bs come in.

To travelers, B&B usually means 'best bet.'

Long before Chaucer wrote "The Canterbury Tales,'' inns were a place to meet interesting people. They still are. When travelers gather for breakfast, or for evening drinks and hors d'oeuvres, they tell stories and trade tips that pave the way for the next day's travel.

If you're on vacation and you want to get to know an area, staying at a B&B gives you a big head start. Supplying information and personal service is how B&B proprietors set themselves apart from hotels.

They've certainly helped me over the years. Sometimes, I feel like the Blanche DuBois of travel journalism: Wherever I go, I depend on the kindness of strangers.